Blindfolds, Cuffs, and Purple Nurples
by SeaKat
Summary: Dean has always been on the kinky side, but blindfolds will always put make him uneasy...Rated M for content. Please R/R
1. Sweet Dreams are Made of

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Supernatural, Sam, or Dean...[That really sucks! What's a woman have to do to get some luv?! ;) ] This story contains some adult situtations, bondage, and you know...sex. If you read, take a minute to review. It helps keep the creative juices flowing and constructive criticism makes better writers! I hope you enjoy. Smooches- Kat

'Ok…I can deal with this…it's just harmless fun…' Dean reassured himself. It was no secret that he liked kinky stuff. Hell, the freakier the girl the better was his motto. But there were some things that even unnerved him…blindfolds were on that list.

* * *

He really didn't know how he had gotten into his current predicament. He remembered going to the bar with Sam, hustling some guys at pool, and then the wet t-shirt contest began. He remembered rooting for this gorgeous brunette with curves for days. When she walked onto the stage, hair cascading down to her waist, white shirt tied tightly under her large, perky breasts and the tiniest red bikini he had ever seen…Dean's jaw dropped and he was instantly, painfully aroused. He had to shift on the stool in order to relieve the pressure of his jeans rubbing against his ever growing erection. When she walked…no, she sashayed, to the mark under the shower head that was installed for the contest, every man was on the edge of their seat. The water began to flow over her causing her skin to glisten under the lights. The now translucent shirt revealed perfectly round breasts with tight rosebud nipples. The water continued down her body, kissing the places Dean wanted to taste. His mouth had gone dry and he ordered more shots and a couple of beers. He glanced around to see where Sam was but the boy was nowhere to be found. "Way to go, Sammy…finally gonna get some…" he chuckled looking back to the stage. He took a long pull from his bottle, and froze. She was looking directly at him… Like a lioness stares at her prey, the woman stared at him with hunger in her coffee colored eyes. She licked her ruby lips suggestively and winked at him, before turning to take her place in the line of women at the back of the stage. From that point on, everything became a blur.

* * *

With his sense of sight negated by the silk blindfold, his other senses were compensating, heighted to a point that walked a fine line between pleasure and pain. His ears picked up the padding of bare feet across the carpet. He could smell lilacs and her…the musky, completely intoxicating scent that was woman. Every nerve was on edge, aching to be touched. He pulled against the handcuffs that secured his arms and legs. He felt vulnerable…and excited beyond belief.

The bed shifted and he felt the warmth of her breath on his neck. "I will take care of you…" Soft, satiny lips pulled at his earlobe, her teeth grazed ever so slightly over the sensitive skin. The bed shifted again as she moved, the lace of her lingerie ghosting over his nakedness. He was throbbing with need, the anticipation enough to cause him to grow harder than he had ever been.

Her hair tickled him as she ran her tongue down his chest to his stomach. She kissed and licked over his muscles, her fingernails lightly scratched down his sides. She nipped at his inner thigh, causing him to moan. She traced her tongue around the edge of the well manicured hair, the teasing touch causing his swollen erection to twitch and leak. She ran her fingers down his thighs and cupped his balls in one hand, kneading them and tugging slightly. He gasped and she smiled. Now the fun would begin…

* * *

His wrists hurt as he strained against the cuffs. He wanted to have his hands free so he could wrap them in her hair and guide his cock into her mouth. He wanted to grab her and smash his body against hers, to fill her with himself and bask in the warmth of her tightness. He was completely consumed with need and there was nothing he could do about it…he sighed as silken lips engulfed him, taking him in completely with one stroke. His hips arched upward as her tongue waltzed over the head of his engorged penis then traced down to the base. He let out a whimper of frustration as she pulled away and the bed shifted as she got up.

"Oh, shit…you're gonna kill me…I can't take much more…" he panted. If he didn't have a release soon…

"Shh…let me take care of you…" a lusty whisper filled his ear. The breath against his neck sent shivers down his spine. He jerked as something wet and cold circled his right nipple. He hissed as the little bud hardened. As soon as the ice had come, it disappeared and was replaced by a warm tongue. She sucked at the nub, twisting it with her tongue, finishing with a gentle bite with her teeth. She moved to the other nipple repeating the torture as she used her fingers to play with the other.

Dean groaned as she straddled him, the wetness of her lace panties driving him wild. She rotated her hips in a figure of eight as she continued playing with the ice down his six-pack. She shifted again, now between his thighs. She held the ice over him, allowing the melting ice to drip onto his throbbing penis. She allowed them to travel down its length before licking the icy droplets up with her warm tongue. Dean bit his lip to stifle a cry of pleasure. He arched his hips frantically toward the heat of her mouth. "Please…" he whined. The great Dean Winchester was begging…

With a smirk and a glint of satisfaction in her eyes, she pulled back from teasing and removed her panties. Again, she straddled him and rubbed herself against him. The friction made Dean moan and thrust his hips off the bed. She used her thighs to keep him from entering her. She slowly positioned herself so she could take her time. Slowly, inch by inch, she slid him inside, squeezing her muscles with each downward movement. She took him completely in, squeezed again, and rocked back and forth. Dean panted and pulled against the cuffs violently. He was out of his mind with want and needed to be loose… She pulled up quickly and thrust down again. Dean gasped and sweat broke on his forehead. He quit fighting the bonds in order to concentrate on controlling his orgasm. It wouldn't take much…

She leaned forward and thrust her tongue in his mouth. They fought for dominance as she continued to slide up and down at a quickening pace. His body tensed as his orgasm grew. She loosened the blindfold as the wave of ecstasy hit its peak. Dean shook the silk off as his orgasm crashed down on him and he blacked out as he looked at the face that had brought him so much pleasure…it was Sam…

* * *

Dean shot up in bed, a cry wrenched from his throat. He searched around the room and sighed with relief when he realized it had just been a dream. Sam came through the door carrying two coffees and a box of donuts.

"How's the head?" he yelled. He smirked as his older brother flinched. Serves him right for drinking like a damn fish…

"Dude, not so loud…" Dean whispered as he brought his hand to his forehead and fell back onto the pillows.

"No prob…I got breakfast!" Sam screamed. "I'm gonna take a shower. Check out is in 3 hours, so you need to get ready soon." He dodged the pillow launched at his head with a hardy laugh and slammed the door as he entered the bathroom.

"Dude!!" Dean yelled, and immediately regretted. The world was spinning. "What the hell did I drink?"

"I think they were called Purple Nurples or something fruity like that. Serves you right for getting a bitch drink…" another pillow bounced off the door frame. Sam stuck his tongue out and slammed the door again. The shower started and Dean could hear his brother humming.

"Save me some hot water, Samantha!" Dean could have sworn he heard female laughing coming from the bathroom. He tried to rub the sleep from his eyes as he made his way to the table and coffee. He brought the steaming cup of caffeine to his lips, and nearly choked. His wrists were bruised a deep purple…as if he had been struggling against handcuffs…


	2. Rain Down on Me

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Sam or Dean (dammit!) Mr. Kripke, can they come play?

**A/N**: Sorry this is on the short side. Work has been hectic. I will post another chapter for this one and another for 'Cherry Pie' this weekend. Originally this story was going to be a oneshot, but a few people said they would like to read more, so here we go...If you have a special request for a scene, let me know. I'm willing to try anything once (and so are Dean and Sam, so it seems...). I'll do my best to make it as descriptive as possible without being overly graphic, but I can't promise anything. Sometimes, I get too into the story! ;p Ok, let's get to the story...let me know what you think. -Kat

Sam stepped out of the shower and grabbed one of the thin hotel towels to dry off. It was rough and scratched his skin, but it did the job. It did nothing to dry his mop of hair. He quickly ran his fingers through it and cursed when he realized he had left an important piece of clothing in his bag. Unlike his brother, going commando wasn't his idea of a great time… He tied the towel around his hips, brushed his teeth then stepped out of the bathroom. His half naked form was met by sparkling green eyes…

* * *

Dean was startled by the sound of the bathroom door opening. He glanced up and felt a heat wash over him. His brother stepped out, slightly moistened skin freshly glowing from the shower. He savored the image: damp hair curling slightly, broad, muscular shoulders tapering down to a narrow waist, well-defined arms lead to a contoured chest, abs chiseled from marble quivered slightly at the change in temperature, a light dusting of hair led down past the towel…

"De…are you okay, man?" Sammy questioned. "You look flushed. Are you feeling alright?"

Quickly blinking his eyes, as if to wake himself, Dean stared up at his little brother. "Um…yeah. I'm fine. Just need to wake up." He rose to his feet gingerly, the pressure in his boxer briefs almost unbearable. He darted past Sam and into the bathroom before another word could be said.

* * *

Upon closing the door, he turned and glared at himself in the mirror. '_What the fuck is wrong with you? That's your brother!!'_ he chided himself. His annoyance growing when he removed his underwear revealing a fully erect, painfully hard, penis. Turning the shower on, he stepped in.

The water was soothing as it ran over his tense muscles. He wet his hair, grabbed a washcloth, and began to wash. The shampoo smelled like flowers: Sam's girly shit. He washed his face and felt a few days worth of stubble. Running the soapy cloth over his muscles, he winced as he got to his chest. His nipples were sore, bruised, as if they had been bitten. He continued cleansing, migrating further south. ..

The roughness of the cloth against the sensitive skin on the head of his member was exhilarating. Despite the feelings of guilt at getting a hard-on from looking at his brother, Dean knew if he didn't have some release soon, it would be too painful to drive.

He wrapped the cloth snuggly around himself. The dull pain caused by the tightness was stimulating. The blood pooled, engorging the nerves of his organ, sensitizing every cell. A thrilling jolt wracked his body as he stroked his hand slowly up his shaft. Reaching the tip, he thumbed the slit, gasping at the surge of pleasure. His pace quickened and he was soon panting. The waves of orgasm would rise only to be dampened with his tightening of the cloth. He rode the wave up and back down several times before the intensity was overwhelming. He allowed himself release with a low moan, "Sammy…"

He fought his shaking legs as he completed his shower, carefully washing away the evidence of his bizarre fixation.


	3. Dream Weaver

**A/N: Here's another shot of Nurple...I hope ya'll like it. While I try not to pimp for reviews, I'm just gonna let you know: if you review it, more will come... **

**Thanks for everyone who has been reading and reviewing/alerting. You keep the Muse interested. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own them, but boy do I wish!!**

Dean hoped Sam would be dressed when he exited the bathroom. With all of the bizarre feelings he had been having over the past 12 hours, he wasn't sure he could be in the same room with semi-clothed-tall-dark-and-handsome. He fidgeted with hair some more, wanting every spike to be perfect. He checked his teeth, yet again. There was an overwhelming need for him to look especially dashing today. If he could draw attention from some cute waitress or an unsuspecting barista at the coffee shop, perhaps he could get his mind off the too-recent memory of himself getting off thinking about his brother…

* * *

Sam sat at the table, laptop open, eyes devouring the script before him. He absently sipped at the lukewarm coffee, jotting notes between tastes. If he noticed Dean's presence, he didn't acknowledge it. The older hunter plodded to the bed gathering his belonging and packing them hastily into his bag.

"So, you found another hunt?" he hoarsely grumbled.

"Nah, but I did find something interesting about the case we just finished. I don't know how we missed it…" Sam murmured distractedly. He corded his fingers through his disheveled mane. He took another drink of coffee, his brow creased with a perplexed look, his eyes never leaving the dimly lit screen.

Dean's knees started to buckle as he was captivated by his brother's every movement. The way his fingers danced hypnotically over the keyboard enthralled him. He shamelessly watched the muscles in those long arms, contracting to bring the coffee to those full, kissable lips. Those muscles rippled against the fabric of the fitted long sleeve undershirt as if beckoning Dean to come have a feel. He sat on the edge of the bed as his body was plagued by the inferno spreading from between his thighs. He desperately tried to break his gaze but felt as if he were being pulled by some unseen force. He shifted slightly, readjusting the swell in his now too tight jeans. He felt his pulse quicken as Sam lowered the Styrofoam cup, flicking his pink tongue across those velvety smooth lips, licking the small trace of brown liquid from them. Dean attempted to swallow the lump in his throat to no avail.

"Ummm…so, what did you find?" he asked. His voice, thick with pure lust, was husky. Sam turned towards him, eyes a mix of confusion and concern.

"Are you feeling alright?" he queried. He ran an appraising eye over his big brother and did not like the image before him. Dean was flushed as if with fever. A light sheen of perspiration glistened on his forehead and upper lip. The man's hands were tightly gripping the covers he sat upon. His lips were set in a stiff line. He sat rigidly upright with none of the usual carefree grace.

* * *

Dean suppressed his desire to pounce on the enticing figure before him. He closed his eyes, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose. The vivid images of Sam's damp chest, rippling abdominal muscles, the wavy chocolate tresses…he felt like a starving tiger smelling fresh meat but unable to get to it due to the bars of his cage. With a low, guttural growl, he managed to strangle out two words, "I'm fine."

"Right…and I believe that because you look like a million bucks," Sam jeered. "If you aren't feeling well, I need you to tell me." His concern for his big brother made him forget about the new found information.

"I said, I'm fine, Sam." Dean's voice was deep and throaty. He barely restrained hunger burned bright in the emerald eyes. He looked like a man a few steps from the edge. Sam flinched from the heat those eyes directed his way.

"Look…Dean…" Sam stuttered. He was uncomfortable. He could feel the tremors of uneasiness beginning in his legs. He took a deep calming breath. "Something is bothering you, man. We can do the usual dance around the subject, or you could stop the tough as nails crap and just tell me what's going on. Just let go of all of the bullshit Dad fed us about how 'emotions are a luxury we can't afford' or 'pain is just weakness leaving the body'. 'Cuz I'm fed up with this fucked up cycle we keep looping through. You're my brother and I love you, but you are a major DICK!" He was standing. The unease replaced by frustration at his sibling's double standard. Dean would demand that Sam tell him what was on his mind or if he was ill, but if the younger brother mentioned anything that could remotely be characterized as Dean being off his game…well, the Apocalypse seemed less intimidating after a blow up from the elder Winchester.

* * *

Dean was irritated. At the mention of their father, he had leapt to his feet. Now within striking distance of the dimpled face, the aggravation was evident in the low rasp of his voice. "What the fuck do you want from me, Sammy?! What do you want me to say? I'm not in the caring and sharing mood right now, so don't be a bitch. Let this ride."

The steel in his voice made Sam inwardly cringe. The ice he walked on was thin and Sam knew it. He also knew that his stubborn, asshole of a brother was in trouble. "No. I'm not letting this ride and I don't care if you are in the mood or not. You have never let me use that excuse to get out of talking about what's bothering me. It goes both ways. Hit me if it will make you feel better. Scream at me, call me names. It doesn't matter as long as you get it out. I promised you, I'm never going to turn my back on you again. I've made mistakes in the past, but I've learned from them and won't repeat them. You have always been there for me and by-God, I'm going to be there for you." Sam took a step towards his seething brother, then another, until he was just inches apart. He wanted to grab Dean and just hug him, but hesitated...

The close proximity made Dean feel dizzy. The scent of Sam was intoxicating. With each breath, his anger was replaced once again by unbridled desire. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears. He brought a hand forward and placed it on the other hunter's chest. His fingertips were on fire as he felt the firm muscle through the thin fabric that separated skin from skin. His breath quickened and he could feel his hardened penis slip through the slit in his boxers. The rough denim against the hypersensitive skin made him whimper quietly. He raised his green eyes searching out hazel ones. Unaware that he had slowly ran his tongue along his lower lip and sucked it between his teeth.

* * *

Sam didn't know what to think at his brother's touch. His mind raced and it quickly became a blur. He quickly became lost in the mossy pools of lust that were formerly his brother's eyes. He didn't notice the burning sensation left by Dean's fingertips. Seeing that luscious mouth part, the tongue that charmed man and woman alike coming out to taste the fullness, and the teeth that made up the infectious smile…he couldn't think. He could barely breathe. All he knew at that moment was that he wanted…he needed more…


	4. You Shook Me

**WARNING**: The following is an explicit adult scene. If you don't like Slash, don't read this chapter. You have been warned, so don't send a review or PM telling me that I'm just gross or I'm going to go to Hell for writing stuff like this. 1) I've given a pretty clear warning as to what type of chapter this will be. 2) I'm not holding a gun to your head making you read this. 3) If I did have a gun to your head, I doubt making you read this would be the first thing I'd have you do...lol... ;P.

I've done my part to spare the virgin minds...now for the rest of us, I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it!!

If either man wanted to stop, they wouldn't have been able. They were two polar opposites and the pull was beyond their control. When lips crashed against lips, the all-encompassing fire burned with wild abandon. Their tongues tasted and teased, snaking and rolling over one another, fighting for dominance. Strong arms laced around each other, gripping and pulling with a desperate need to be closer.

* * *

Pulling back a bare few inches, Dean clutched the hem of Sam's shirt and deftly ripped the offensive garment away from the body he craved. The gasp that broke from Sam's reddening lips sent Dean into a frenzy. Like a shark after blood in the water, he attacked Sam's kiss-bruised mouth with a ferocity that sent them both tumbling to the carpet.

Sam was taken by surprise at his brother's crazed outburst. The sting of carpet burn bit his shoulders. The pain added the pleasure each touch brought to his swollen erection. The sleeves of the rag he once called a shirt trapped his forearms and bound his wrists. Unable to move his arms to shift Dean's weight as he was pushed harder to the ground, Sam was effectively held prisoner. Under normal circumstances, he would have panicked, but the animalistic growls coming from Dean's perfect lips made Sam's mind reel.

* * *

The feel of the long, strong body beneath him, made Dean mad with want. All coherent thoughts were erased, replaced with the primal urge to touch, to feel, to lay claim to what was his. The well-worn cotton of his own t-shirt shredded like paper with one gruff tug. He swiftly aligned their bodies, firm muscle corresponding to firm muscle. The feel of heated flesh against flesh made both men moan into each other. Like two halves of the same whole, their pelvis's met and their bulging jeans rubbed together. Dean's fingers expertly unbuttoned and unzipped them both, freeing their engorged, pre-cum slicked organs. He quickly kicked off his garments while stripping Sam's from his long, powerfully-built legs.

Spreading those lengthy limbs enough to fit between them, he kissed Sam's ankle lightly. Using his tongue, he traced the light blue vein upward. As he drew closer to his prize, he slowed his pace. He ran calloused hands along the muscular inner thighs, relishing the tremor the action sent through the younger man. He kissed and lapped at the juncture of leg and hip. He pulled at the skin, sucking and lightly biting, marking his territory. Satisfied with his brand, he ran his tongue along the edge of the fine hairs, inhaling deeply, savoring the rich, slightly musky scent. It was exhilarating and he was brought to a higher level of arousal than ever before. He cupped Sam's testicles with his left hand, kneading them lightly, his middle finger slipping underneath to find the small, spongy triangle of skin that covered the delicate bundle of nerves. He licked the ropelike vein on the underside of the dimpled devil's penis. He flicked his tongue rapidly over the man's frenulum before rimming the swollen head. Spurred on by the obscene noises coming from his little brother and the provocative way the young hunter's lean body arched, he opened his silken lips and took the entire length in one swoop.

* * *

The Stanford alumni had lost the ability to form logical thought with the first taste of Dean. The ability to articulate any known word followed shortly thereafter. As if reverting back to primitive man, there was only physical sensation, a biological need for release.

Each new form of contact bombarded him with new, overpowering bliss. He didn't recognize the coarse moaning that echoed throughout the room as his own. When Dean licked him, he felt lightheaded. When those beautiful lips parted and he felt the warm silkiness engulfing him, the first tsunami-like wave of orgasm crashed down. His toes curled as his muscles tightened. Dean had other ideas, however, and wasn't ready for the fun to stop.

* * *

Denying his own ache, Dean focused on Sammy. He could feel the beginnings of orgasm as the younger's balls began to throb. Looking upward, those jeweled eyes saw Sam's eyes roll backward and the muscles tighten in the man's neck and chest. With the first pulse of the climax, Dean pressed against the rough patch of skin, applying enough pressure to the prostate to bring intense pleasure as well as deny complete release.

He continued to bob his head up and down the throbbing shaft as his brother twitched in ecstasy. He could feel the first wave pass and he lightened, but did not completely release, the pressure of his finger. He gripped the base of the erection with his other hand and stroked in time with the motion of his lips. Within seconds, the second wave began and Sam thrust upward, moaning in a deep, guttural tone…Pulling lightly to create a small amount of tension on Sam's scrotum, Dean once again applied more pressure, denying release...Sam's voice, hoarse and strained, rose to a higher pitch. The moaning was replaced by a loud, panting cry. "_**Unn, G'd!! Pl's**…**Pl's**_**,"** he begged. He felt as if he would explode. Dean's throaty chuckle against the head of his organ immediately started the cycle again.

Dean picked up the pace, bringing Sam completely out of his mouth with a loud pop before twisting his palm over the head and taking him back in with his lips. Sam's member throbbed with the beating of his heart as Dean took him higher and higher. The low roar started in the young man's chest as he neared the peak yet again.

Dean pulsed his finger against the button, masterfully matching the timing of mouth, hand, and fingertip. Sam came hard. Dean delighted in the slightly bitter taste that flooded his mouth, his own erection throbbing for release.

_**"DEANNNNNN!!!!"**_ The raw, unabashed scream sent him over the edge. He spilled his essence onto the carpet as he delighted in the sound of his name coming from the young Winchesters lips.


	5. Signs

**A/N**: Everything will unfold in the next couple of chapters, just have to lay the foundation... Smooches-Kat

Sam looked around at the unfamiliar surroundings. The bright light reflecting from the full moon revealed sand. Nothing but sand that stretched as far as the eye could see in every direction. He groaned and crossed his arms over his bare chest. Clothed only in thin linen pants, the cool night air brought goose bumps to his sun-kissed skin. His mind feverishly worked to decipher where he was, how he got there, and where the hell his brother was…The faint sound of chanting carried through the stillness and he began to walk towards it. The smoothness of the sand beneath his bare feet was oddly comforting as he trudged over the sandbanks.

As he topped what seemed like the hundredth dune, he was welcomed by the sight of a small oasis. The freshwater pond was surrounded by lush vegetation and a few palm trees. But the most surprising sight was the small bonfire with people dancing around it.

His hunter's instinct warned him to stay hidden, but his body screamed for warmth. The irony of suffering from hypothermia in the middle of a desert wasn't lost to him. He shook his head and sighed, the "Winchester Luck" was going to be the death of him…He made his way towards the small gathering, hoping…praying, that for once things wouldn't go the "normal" way…

* * *

It was one of the partially clad women who first noticed the tall, muscular man walking towards them. As she stopped swaying, the gold necklace that slightly covered her breasts tinkled. The linen skirt, held together by two large scarab broaches on each hip bone, swirled around her now unmoving curves. Gracefully raising one arm she pointed in his direction. Her coffee-colored, heavy lidded eyes grew wide as she began to speak in an ancient, long-forgotten language. The others in her party turned to follow suit. The scent of fragrant oils on their supple, caramel-colored skin, wafted through the air. The enticing smell of lotus blossom and jasmine beckoned Sam to come closer.

* * *

He felt like a fish on a hook. The alluring fragrance held him hostage as he continued closer and closer. When he was a mere five feet away, he stared in awe at the party of ten before him. The five men were dressed similar to him but their hair was thick and straight. It lay braided down their back, between their shoulder blades. Their eyes were painted with thick black lines on the top and bottom lids, extending past the corner of their eyes. The five women were similarly dressed, save the necklaces that adorned their exquisite necks. The gold hung down in rings past their collar bones and further, vaguely concealing the perfectly round, full breasts. Each person, male and female, was tantalizingly breathtaking. If perfection could be personified, it would be them.

Sam blushed as he realized he'd been staring, the unbridled arousal partially cloaked by the darkness. The linen of his pants provided very little camouflage for his painful hardness. He looked up when he heard the incoherent babbling from amongst the strangers.

"Where am I?" he asked. The response was again in the unknown tongue. "Do you understand me? Can you speak like me?" Blank stares were his only response. "Dean?! Where the fuck are you? Am I? "

* * *

Dean woke as the cold crept over his nakedness. It took a moment for him to realize where he was, but the feel of warm skin against his face made him smile. Realizing he and Sam had fallen asleep on the floor, he raised up, taking care not to wake his not-so-little brother.

After a quick trip to the bathroom and a quick wash up, he returned to Sam's side. He licked his lips as the glanced over the finely chiseled body. He could feel the heat pooling in between his thighs again. The peaceful look on that handsome face was the only think keeping him from licking each and every well-defined muscle… he would be patient. He denied the throbbing in his groin, and pulled back the covers on the bed. He then knelt down, tenderly gathering the taller man in his arms. He quickly brought the man up to the bed and settled him in for much needed rest.

Climbing under the covers next to him, Dean looked down at his Sammy. Lying back against the soft pillow, a feeling of complete contentment washed over him as the dimpled-god nestled against his chest. Squeezing his brother closer, he leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on the softest lips he had ever felt.


	6. In My Dreams

**A/N: I know it's been forever since I updated...I can't begin to apologize. The real world is determined to stifle my fun time. I want to thank girlyghoul for helping me get out of my little block. The next chapter is in the works already and should be up soon. I know this one is kinda short. Thank you to anyone who is still reading. **

The once calm waters of the oasis began to bubble and churn like a Las Vegas Jacuzzi. The caramel-colored worshipers stopped in mid gyration, pivoting to face the effervescent waters. Without a word, they all fell to their knees and prostrated themselves before the immerging figure. Sam stepped forward, weaving his way through the human maze. Goosebumps tickled his flesh and the hair on his neck stood on end. His eyes widened and pupils dilated as the goddess came into full view.

Jet-black hair flowed down to her waist, inking over both shoulders to conceal her rosy nipples and spilling down her back partially covering her buttocks. A simple, elegant headband with a single tear-shaped ruby nestled on her forehead adorned the liquid tresses. On her throat lay a thick, gold choker. A fine cord of gold snaked from the band, between her supple breasts, to a matching gold bikini. Four cords grew from the center of the bikini, each weaving along her body to her wrists and ankles. Like her neck, these pulse points are covered with a thick band. The cords moved with the woman, giving just enough for comfortable movement, but pulling back before freedom can be purchased. She silently made her way to the awe-struck hunter, lithe body moving with cat-like grace.

Sam let out a quiet breath. Inches from the stunning feminine, he was thunderstruck. He managed to make himself breathe normally despite the jello that had replaced his brain. The scent of jasmine, lotus blossom, and spice made him dizzy. He looked down as she placed a tiny hand over his heart. The despair and complete heartache visible in the mocha pools caused his chest to tighten. His heart felt as if it were being clenched in a vise. The spasm intensified and he fell to his knees before the goddess. Her hand never left his chest as her lips, lips made for sinful things, began to move. Though the language was one that had been long forgotten, he understood her request.

"Free me, Sam Winchester. I must stop her before it is too late."

* * *

The quickening of Sam's heart stirred the sleeping man resting on his chest. Dean's eyelids fluttered. He looked at his sleeping brother and quickly became alert. Sam's brow glistened with beads of sweat. His breathing was shallow and far too quick. Dean placed trembling fingers to Sam's throat and felt the racing of the young man's heart.

Pulling himself upright, he placed his hands on either side of Sam's face. "Sammy! Wake up, man. Come on, it's a nightmare. Sammy, open your eyes for me," he pleaded. His voice was thick with concern and fear. Sam's nightmares had always been distressing, but this…this was unlike any before. His brother had always snapped out of it at the first sound of his voice. The fact that the youngest seemed to be locked in this one worried Dean. He doubled his efforts to wake his lover to no avail.

When an anguished groan escaped Sam's lips and a trickle of blood came from his nose, Dean moved beyond worried…he was terrified. He quickly sprang from the bed to the bathroom. Grabbing a washcloth, he soaked it with cold water from the tap. Without bothering to wring the excess, he was back beside Sam in seconds. Hoping the icy rag would shock his brother awake, he swabbed Sam's drawn features. He was completely focused on his Sammy and never realized they were not alone.


End file.
